


Valentine's Day

by orphan_account



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 21:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1873062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss wants to do something special for Peeta on Valentine's Day. But she's going to need the help of Haymitch to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentine's Day

     Today is a big, big, big day, to quote Effie. It's Valentine's Day, and I have to think of something amazing to do for Peeta, to show him how much I care for him. Thankfully, he has to work a full shift at the bakery, which gives me plenty of time to think of something and then work it out. Sadly, I'm not the romantic type. I'm not good with words. And I have no clue what I should do.

     What have I always done when I don't know what to do? I approach Haymitch, of course. I walk over to his house and knock on the door, hoping he's actually awake and sober. Then again, nothing I ever hope for happens, if the past few years have been any indicator. Instead of waiting, I open the unlocked door and let myself in. The stench of the house is as it always is. I ignore it, though, because this is important.

     I walk past Haymitch, who is asleep on the couch, as usual. I know that it will be senseless to try to rouse him without force, so I walk straight to the kitchen, grabbing a bucket on my way. I reach the faucet and fill the bucket with cold water. Once it's filled, I make my way back to Haymitch and dump it on his head, making sure to jump back before he can catch me with his knife.

     It takes a moment for him to understand that I'm his neighbor-slash-mentoree, and not some strange version of President Snow. Once he does, he grumbles and throws the knife down. "Why can't you ever learn how to wake a person up normally?" He asks.

     "I'll learn how when I become a normal person," I throw back.

     Haymitch hums in what I assume is agreement. "I guess that makes sense," he mumbles.

     I give him a moment to fully wake up and do whatever it is he does when he wakes up. He disappears into another room and them comes back in a few moments later. I waste no time with silly pleasantries. And neither does he.

     "So what exactly are you here for?" Haymitch asks impatiently. I scoff.

     "What," I say, "I can't come by here to tell you 'happy Valentine's day'?" I make quotations in the air with my fingers. Haymitch snorts.

      "You mean Happy Be Miserable And Think Of All The Good Things You Could Have Had day?"

     I shrug. "Is there any difference?"

     "Not really." We sit in silence for a few more minutes, until Haymitch speaks up again. "Alright, so what is it that you really want? That's the only reason you come over here."

     "That's not true." I argue. "I come over here to invite you to dinner. Not like you ever come, though." Haymitch grunts and sits down on the filthy couch.

     "The boy comes over here every day, for small talk and to leave a loaf of bread. He's definitely the most kind of you two."

     I smirk. "And that's why he's your favorite. I don't care to listen to your twisted jokes and bantering."

     "We're two of a kind, you and me," Haymitch says, "Now what is it that you want?"

     I roll my eyes. "I was wondering if you could help me with a personal project."

     He watches me closely, almost suspicious. "What kind of project?"

     I take a deep breath, preparing to be laughed at. "Well, you know Peeta. It's Valentine's Day, and most likely he'll do something wonderful and awfully sweet, and I hate to not do anything for him. So I thought I'd bake something."

     Haymitch squints. "Are you feeling okay? You know your cooking wouldn't be eaten by starving dogs." 

     I huff. "Whatever. I know my cooking isn't the best, but I'm sure I can make a decent batch of cookies or something."

       Haymitch shrugs. "I doubt it. But what do you need my help with?"

     "Well," I bite my lip, "I'd like it to be a surprise. And I'm not sure when he's coming home today, so I'd like to make the cookies here." I glance towards the kitchen. "Though I think your kitchen should probably be scrubbed from top to bottom with a toothbrush."

     Haymitch glares at me. "There is nothing wrong with my kitchen."

     I glance back at him briefly before my gaze flits back to the doorway that leads to the offending room. "Have you looked at it recently?"

     Haymitch grumbles. "Fine, so it's a little messy. So what? And you'd better stop insulting it if you want to cook anything in there."

     I brighten up. "So you'll let me?"

     Haymitch says nothing and rubs his chin, obviously trying to take his time answering and make me angry. "On one condition," he says finally.

     "What's that?" I ask impatiently.

     "If those cookies are good, and you don't end up burning my house down, I get to eat one. And, if you do burn my house down, I get to move in with you and lover boy." He says the last part as if he's holding back laughter.

     I roll my eyes again and nod. "Yes, yes, whatever! So I can bring the stuff over here and start, right?"

     "I think that's what I said, yes."

     "Thank you so much, Haymitch! I'll be right back." I dash over to my house and grab a bunch of ingredients and one of Peeta's recipe books that he keeps in the top cabinet. I run back over to Haymitch's house and get to work cleaning his kitchen. Peeta had better appreciate this. It's not like I find cleaning up after Haymitch fun.

~~~ 

**An hour later**

     "Haymitch, stop playing around with the flour and do the right measurements!" I'm getting frustrated. I insisted that Haymitch help me so we could cut the time in half, but it seems to be taking twice as long as it should. Haymitch mumbles something under his breath.

     "How am I supposed to know what the right measurements are?" He whines.

     I sigh and point at the page in the book. "It says right there how much to add! Just add one and a half cups of flour."

     "This is confusing," he grumbles, "I don't see how the boy does it every day."

     "Shut up and crack the egg over the bowl." He does, but ends up getting a few shell pieces into the mix too. I groan and pluck them out. "You can't have eggshells in there, Haymitch. It'll end up choking Peeta, and I don't want him dead, okay?" Haymitch mutters under his breath again.

     "If you think you can do any better, you go right ahead."

     I glare at him. "Shut up. I—" A loud honking noise cuts me off before I can say anything else. I look towards the doorway, and find a goose running at me. I shriek and duck down, too surprised to do otherwise. If I had my bow . . .

     "Get out, Herbert!" Haymitch shouts at it. The goose stops honking and looks at him sideways, as if surprised by his outburst. This . . . Herbert then turns around and waddle out of the wide open front door. I look at Haymitch, shocked.

     "What was that?" I ask.

     "A goose, apparently."

     "No, I mean, why did it listen to you? And why did you call it Herbert?"

     Haymitch shrugs. "Well, it's as suitable a name as any for a goose."

     "You have a goose."

     Haymitch scratches his head. "I think that's obvious, sweetheart."

     I stand up and dust myself off. "Okay, well, let's get back to work," I say with sarcastic cheerfulness, "These cookies aren't going to bake themselves."

 ~~~

**An hour later**

     I stare at the cookies, unable to believe my eyes. Haymitch doesn't seem to be able to believe it either. "You didn't burn them?" He says, his voice holding a note of hope. I shake my head and continue to stare at the cookies.

     "Nope. They look . . . fine."

     "And you didn't burn my house down?" Haymitch looks around, his eyes full of wonder. "Miracles do happen."

     I punch him in the shoulder and roll my eyes. "Stop being dramatic. I don't set kitchens on fire."

     "You did last week when you attempted to boil water."

     I frown. "That was one time, Haymitch."

     "You should stay away from kitchens after this, ya know. I guess there's a reason they call you The Girl on Fire. We should probably change it to The Girl Who Sets Things on Fire."

     "No cookies for you if you don't be nice."

     "What? We had a deal. There was nothing about being nice in that deal. I think I deserve a cookie for putting up with you when I could have been doing better things." Haymitch pouts. I laugh because I've never seen Haymitch pout, but it makes him look like Lady did when she wanted to be fed. I smile a bit more at the memory.

     "We'll see. Now let's get these things iced. We don't have all day."

~~~

     Haymitch gave up and passed out on the couch halfway through the icing. I don't care. I'm almost done anyway. I finish making heart patterns on them and let the icing harden before wrapping them up and bagging them. I walk past Haymitch, who is still asleep, and walk through the front door. I cut through his yard and head towards my house. I open the door and the smell of cheese and bread hits me like a brick wall. I smile and walk to the kitchen, where I find Peeta taking a batch of cheese buns out of the oven.

     I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him. He turns around and smiles.

     "Happy Valentine's Day." He says.

     "Happy Valentine's day," I respond back.

      I show him the cookies and we eat them together, Peeta remarking about how wonderful they are. Thankfully, they weren't as awful as my baking normally is. I was right about Peeta, though. He did do something incredibly sweet. I now have a new, fancier bow, courtesy of Peeta and Beetee's planning. Apparently it shoots with better accuracy and kills the animal 98% quicker. I had been complaining about having to slit the animal's throat lately. Peeta seemed to enjoy his present, as small and silly as it was.

      We are just settling on the couch to watch some Capitol program on the television when the front door swings open, revealing a panicked Haymitch.

     "What is it, Haymitch?" Peeta asks, genuinely concerned.

     "The problem is that she," Haymitch points at me, "promised me a cookie for letting her cook at my house so she didn't end up burning your house down. I never got a cookie! I think you owe me one!"

     I smile. "Well, I'm afraid you're a bit late. We've already ate them all."

     Haymitch looks taken aback. "You kids eat too much. Haven't you ever heard of sharing and keeping promises?"

     "But, Haymitch, we did share," I point out, "We shared with each other."

     Haymitch turns to Peeta. "I had better get any cookie I want from the bakery for free tomorrow. I better." With that, he walks outside and slams the door.

     We both burst into laughter. "Who knew Haymitch could be so moody about a cookie?" I say.

     Peeta grins. "Well, it really shouldn't be a big surprise, considering he's moody about everything else." 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on tumblr as rnellark-everdeen.


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